Connecticut western news., 1887-01-12
BEHIND THE COUNTER.

through her, as if an ice cold stream were trickling down the line of her spi- nal column. "Ob, wish Iwere rich girl, and didn't have to work9"
 "Work is honorable, my child" said old Uncle Wolsey, who, with his specta- cles on his nose was trying to spell through the illegible paragraphs of the daily paper, muttering to himself that ''either they didn't print as good as they used to, or else his old eyesight was fail ing"
 "Yes, know," futtered Garry; 'but but Pm very willing that someone else should have the honor this time."
 Uncle Wolsey turned his glasses with mild reproach upon his niece's pink-and- white balsam of face.
 "I wish could be as brave as you, Uncle Wolsey!" said Garry, as she tied the crimson strings of her little capote under her'round chin.
 Old Wolscy Wallingfcrd had sheltered his little pet lamb by his hearth-fold all her lifetime until now. He was jewel CT by trade, and he had kept his unpre- tending store open as long as possible. But the tide of fashion went by, and left him stranded on the unfrequcnted side street, where the sign of the tarnished silver watch attracted no further atten- tion.
 And ono day, when he had set all day in the window with his magnifying- glass, working at some impossible oll time piece, whose owner had died and never called for it, the twilight crept darkly over his eycsight and his heart. He laid down his tools.
 "All day long," said he, "and never a customer! Well-a-day it is time for the old man to shut up his store at last.'
 He went out and put up the wooden shutters, with heart that was heavier than they, and from that time thence forward the wooden imitation of the sil- yer watch swung no longer over the door,
 Uncle Wolsey had been conquered in life's battle, and had laid down his arms, and now it was that Garry reluctantly threw herself into the breach.
 How could she let the dear old man starvea And Mir. Pickrelps fancy and dry goods store on Sixth avenue was really very creditable establishment, and Mrs. Pickrell herself had promised, from the severe heights of the cashiers desk, to "keep an eye" upon old MT. Walllngford's niece, and if her services proved desirable, there was no sort of doubt but that her salary would be in creased in time.
 So Garry buttoned up her sack, drew on her neat lislc-thread gloves and took the little basket, in which, wrapped in a napkin, was packed her lunch of apple pie and cheese, and went forth to meet her new career, little reckoning how brief it was to be.
 At first it was not very pleasant. The store was small and stutfy, with gorgeous piles of cretonne and chintz at the door, and festoons of laces, silk handkerchiefs and colored jerseys Tapping against the heads of the girls behind the counter, of whom there were three besides Carry bold, high voiced damsels, who wore their hair down over the bridge of their noses and giggled necessarily.
 Customers came and went, change was made and paper parcels expeditiously wrapped up.
 Mir. Pickrell walked the floor with his hands in his pockets, ordered away small girls whose noses were fattcned too consistently against the windows out side, and smiled beamingly on old ladies who stopped to examine the quality of tho chintzes and flannel suitings.
 Mrs. Pickrcll reprimanded the young women with the banged hair for giggling too loud when there were customers in the store, and called to Garry to ''mind what she was about" when box of rib bons fell off the counter upon the floor.
 Garry grew very weary, her head began to ache, and she wondered how long it would be before "shuttingup time."
 At last tall, brown-faced young man came in, wearing a foreign-looking coat trimmed with fur, and somehow bearing in his aspect the indescribable stamp of belonging to some other country.
 One of the banged haired nymphs was eating her lunch; the second aad rushed up the street to get change for ten dol lar bill; and the third was engaged in matching an impossible shade of ribbon for young lady who was determined not to be pleased with any thing
 "Carry!" shrilly signaled Mrs. Pick. rell.
 And our heroine adYan ced gallantly tt the rescue.
 'What can show you?' she asked timidly, of the new customer.
 Silk, please,'' said tho young man.
 And when Carry perceived that h' was considerably more embarrassed thar herself, she took courage.
 "What colorG" said she.
 'I don't know" answered the GUS tomer--''that isl haven't quite mad up my mind. Perhaps you could sug 0est--"
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